Consider Tipping Me

Do you find value in my blog? Have you maybe learned from me? Do you understand BPD a little better because of me? Do you want to show your appreciation? Consider leaving me Ko-Fi tip! Even just 3$ can help out food on the table and keep my electric on!

My Books

I Made These!

Click below to open
our own store
Or browse and shop
thousands of others!

Link Exchange

If I catch you linking to me, I might just return the favor and link right back to you! If I don't catch you, well, point me in the right direction, please. I will say this isn't automatic. I won't, for example, link back to someone who glamorizes or advocates harmful material. I don't have to like your site, but I do have to respect it. I assume that won't be a problem? So let us share readers! A link exchange is free advertising for us all!

​

Archive for July, 2013

(I wrote this weeks ago. And I’ve debated posting it. Which, as we all know is rare for me, but none-the-less I have been debating. I don’t know why. But should this go live, it was written in June so that’s how long it took me to find courage.)

Part 2

The term is Asexual. For me it means little to no interest in sexual activity. I suppose it’s nice to have a name for it. Though, I could have done that Google search at any time. So, I suppose it’s nice to be ready for the name for it.

My husband argues I’m a mix of asexual and pansexual, meaning I make no notice of gender, age, race, etc in my sexual decisions.

I beg to differ that I’m more asexual and panromantic. Meaning the no real interest in sex, but I’ll love anyone I find worthy with no baring in the aforementioned list of otherwise discriminations.

Then if you want to get technical, I could be a touch demisexual or “grey asexual” meaning that I can actually have sexual desires if there is a well established emotional connection or a desire for children. Or, in Pat’s case, both.

It explains the desire to wrap my arms around and protect those I’m attracted to, but not usually take them to bed.

It explains my lack of much of anything sexual with my high-school boyfriend.

Andrew was anger based. I’m not sure that counts.

Pat, is well, Pat.

And there you have it.

Defined.

I suppose this post was long in coming.

I suppose this is why I stopped being comfortable with the label gay/straight/bi. I will love anyone in so many ways.

I am fiercely loyal whether you deserve it or not and I will love all those in my life with the passion of the burning sun. It doesn’t matter the role in my life, there is a love to match it. Sibling, romantic, brain stimulant, life inspiration.

I go through life with a fire, everything I touch ignited under my fingers. I don’t take things on with half my heart or energy. It’s all or nothing.

My soul is on my sleeves, spilling out with my words as I share my life, or as I sing my heart out with the tune in my head.

My greatest inspiration is inspiring others and having it reflect back onto me to do better.

I will defend those I hold dear with my dying breath. I hold dear the many in my life that have left their mark.

I question all I see in life before me, to better understand and to better love the experiences that fill my life.

I am the fire of a Borderline, the passion of a Ginger, the heart of a listener, the inspiration of a believer in the greatness others are capable of.

I am a force. An unstoppable force and I have not met my immovable object.

I have been missing it since last fall. Never thought I would, but the feeling of power that comes from pushing through the burn as my feet hit the pavement, is strangely addictive.

Warm up. Run. Walk. Run. Walk. And so on until cool down and collapse.

I have it nowhere near by the book. I will continue day 1, week 1 until I do. It might take years. Then I’ll move on to day 2, week 1. I have my limits though. Not fat girl limits, but chronic pain issues limits. If I don’t listen to my limits I’ll do more harm than good.

But I’m working on it. I’m officially that fat girl making her way down the sidewalk not giving a damn what you think because at least I’m trying.

I’m heading to a 4.0 with this first class at Franklin. Granted, it’s an easy class, but I’m headed to a high 4.0 so I’ve still worked for it. When I was at CSCC, I had a 4.0 there as well until I had to drop 2 classes due to life circumstances. I wasn’t skipping class or not turning in my work. I simply moved with little warning, which took my internet connection, and got promoted all in the same week. By dropping the classes so I could go next semester, I was attempting responsible. But, they failed me. I apparently missed the deadline. The thing is, I could see not getting money back and that would have been fine, but failing me because I missed the deadline, when I was otherwise being really responsible, was questionable. At best. You see, by failing me, they killed my GPA causing me to lose all financial aid. Not cool, Columbus State Community College. Not cool.

So here is what I’ve decided.

I’m capable of a solid 4.0 and maintain it like some people are capable of maintaining breathing. I say some people, because there are indeed people who have trouble breathing. But for your average person, they don’t have to think about breathing, and I don’t have to think about my 4.0. It simply happens.

Which means, if Franklin University has a Dean’s List, which I have not actually found evidence they do, I will be on it. Then I will print off this notification (or photocopy it should it arrive in the mail) and I’ll sent it to CSCC’s financial aid department along with a strongly but eloquently worded letter informing them what they can stick where. I will proceed to do this every single trimester straight through my master’s because I am capable of maintaining my 4.0 straight through my masters.

Then, after my master’s, should I really manage to work a miracle or find hopes of seriously paying off student debt, I will go for my doctorate in psychology. That way I have a few more years of what will, by this point, become a form letter. And when I graduate Dean’s List with my PsyD, I will sign that last letter Doctor Karen Marrs.

And them promptly seek counseling with myself because yes, I know how crazy I sound.

And you are all, “But Karen! You are in banking! Why a doctorate in psychology?” What, you don’t think that will be useful in banking? Maybe not behind a teller line. But psychology is everywhere. I psychologist is the one that suggested to stores that they stock candy bars and other little impulse purchases at the check-out register. Psychology is knowing how to read people and how the mind works. It pays to have a psychologist on staff. But only if you know how to use them. And corporate level knows how to use them.

Me Around The Web

Your Ad Here!

Where is your ad?
All ad space is 50% off if you pay ahead for 2 months of space! 25% off for a single month!

Spare Some Change?

Because let's face it:
I'm a broke college student trying to pay my bills and help support 3 kids all while going to school full-time and unable to work due to being disabled. I pour my soul into this site and if you'd like to help me earn a little something something for my work here, I'd gladly welcome it.